Do Not Go Gentle
by Bahrtok
Summary: "Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." - Dylan Thomas.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an SYOT, the tribute form is on my profile, I will only accept tributes through PM's. Thank you!**

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><p><span>Monkshood Splice, District 3 Mentor, 19<span>

"Sweet sassafras, you'll never guess what I just found," Avenaye says as he rushes through my unlocked door.

"Hey!" I shout through a mouthful of cake. "What if I had been naked?"

"You haven't changed your clothes in days, and I can't even remember the last time you showered." As he talks, Avenaye busies himself with shoving all of my important papers and documents off of my table. The Mentor for District Four, Avenaye is tall and gangly, with messy brown hair.

"Hey!" I shout again, wiping my chocolate-covered fingers on my shirt and stooping to pick up my papers. "That's my thinking table!"

"'Shocks?'" Avenaye reads, glancing at one of my papers.

"Yes, _shocks_, Avenaye. It's a combination shoe-sock, so that you don't have to wear both."

"What's so hard about wearing shoes and socks? What's this - a vibrating _toilet_?"

"What's the only part of your body that never gets a massage?" I ask. He stares at me blankly. "Your butt, Avenaye. Your butt."

He seems to weight it in his head for a moment.

"Yeah, I'd buy that," he concludes. "But I've got something even better. Check this out."

With a sly smile, he lifts a small black box out of his pocket and places it gingerly on the table. Avenaye clicks a button, and suddenly a hologram bursts to life above my table.

"It's a… place?" I ask quizzically, mesmerized.

"It's the _arena_," Avenaye says happily. "I snatched it from the Head Gamemaker's pocket when I was showing him my magic tricks."

"You did magic tricks without me?" I whine. "We've been working on that act for _weeks_, Avenaye!"

"Don't worry, I was only giving him a taste. Trust me, he's definitely hooked. Can't wait to see the rest. But check. It. Out. We've got a sneak preview of the arena, how awesome is that?"

"It's… interesting. Seems like a lot of walking, though, I'm not into that." I move my head in for a closer look.

In the center of the arena is a circular waterfall. And I'm talking a big-drop-into-a-pit-of-nothingness kind of waterfall. Surrounding the waterfall is a small jungle, and beyond that it's just snow.

"Now watch this," Avenaye whispers. He touches the holographic map with his fingers, and suddenly the bottom half of the arena appears. "Ice caves."

He's right. Ice caves are hidden under the snow. I follow them with my eyes and watch as they turn into dirt tunnels underneath the jungle area, and finally open up at the bottom of the seemingly never-ending waterfall. Something about the tiny, confined tunnels makes me shiver.

"It's like looking at a graveyard," Avenaye murmurs.

Twenty-three graves, ready for the taking.

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><p><strong>Again, please submit tributes through PM's only. I do have Mentors from previous Games (as you can see). Please keep that in mind as you're choosing your tribute's District. Thank you!<strong>


	2. The Mentors

**This is an SYOT, the tribute form is on my profile, I will only accept tributes through PM's. Thank you!**

**This chapter is just to introduce you to the Mentors that I have from my previous stories, who will be featured in this story. There are still open tribute spots - spots taken so far are D1 Male, D7 Male and Female, and D10 Male. All other spots are open. **

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><p><span>Weston Shepp, District 6 Mentor, 20<span>

I can't see them, but I know they are bowing to me. The Avoxes. I keep one hand firmly on the wall as I hold my suitcase up with the other hand.

I'm blind. In case you were wondering.

Hands rush forward to relieve me of my suitcase. I hear the zipper being undone and dresser drawers being opened as Avoxes robotically go about their job of setting up my room for the duration of the Games. All of the meticulous vacuuming and dusting and feng shui arrangements are lost on me. Why do they even bother? Why does _anyone_ bother doing _anything_?

"Thanks," I murmur to my silent servants as I feel my way into the hall. One hand runs along the wall as I guide myself to the elevator.

One thing I hate about elevators: I can never tell if there's someone in there when the doors open. Unless they speak, I can only assume that I'm alone. If you think elevator rides are awkward for you already, try riding with your eyes closed.

"Wesley," a voice says as the elevator doors open. "Nice to see you. Get it? Because you can't see."

"Yeah, I got that, Monk," I answer, feeling the elevator buttons in an attempt to find the one for the cafeteria. "And it's Weston."

"The Sheep boy, right?"

"My last name is Shepp."

"You know, you're a very serious person. I once had this uncle who was even more seriouser than you are - I mean, you could've shot him in the foot, and the guy wouldn't have blinked - and his name was something-or-other, I don't really remember anymore, 'cause I was probably only seven last time I saw him. Although I could've been eight, because that was the year I was maybe a ghost that nobody could see, but I didn't know that I was a ghost, like in that movie, The Sixth Sentence, but it turned out that people could see me, and they were just ignoring me, so that was…"

I zone her out as the elevator doors open. Her voice leaves the elevator, so I follow. I learned a few years ago that if you want to go to the cafeteria, all you have to do is follow Monk. She continues to talk as I we walk along the buffet, an Avox filling my plate according to my orders. I try to break away from her, but she scrambles to follow me, intent on conversing.

"…Anyway, long story short, they never found his pinky toe." She pauses for a moment. "What were you saying again?"

"Nothing," I sigh.

"Hey, Avenaye!" Monk suddenly shouts, running off in another direction. "Did you ever hear about my really serious uncle that I can't remember the name of?"

"Did they find his pinky toe?" Avenaye asks excitedly.

"No, I was just telling Wesley that - "

"Why are you hanging out with mad Monk?" another voice asks me as someone suddenly claps me on the shoulder.

"I'm trying not to," I tell Rafael with a smile.

"I try not to eat when she's in the cafeteria, but the little freak's always here," Rafael laughs. "Come on, Luke and I have been waiting for you, bro."

He grabs my elbow and guides me to a table where I'm overwhelmed by the scent of dirt. Pure dirt.

"Hey, Luke," I say in greeting. "You haven't showered yet, huh?"

"It's dirty in District twelve, the kid's from District twelve, the kid's gonna be dirty," Rafael rattles off quickly. "Point is, the three of us are all gonna be Mentors this year. It's gonna be awesome."

"Not for the tributes," Luke says quietly.

"Why do you always do that?" Rafael sighs. "I'm happy, everything's great, and then you go and say something like that."

"You're an asshole."

"_You're_ an asshole."

The boys continue to hurtle expletives at each other until they're laughing hysterically at the hideous things they're calling each other. The laughing and fighting turns into laughing and shoving, until Luke pushes Rafael so hard that he bumps into me and something falls out of his pocket with a rattle.

"What the hell is that?" Luke asks seriously.

Rafael is silent. There's more rattling as Luke picks the object off the floor.

"Raf, these are pills. And they're not yours."

"Are you gonna be a fucking rat?" Rafael asks. His voice is quiet and icy cold. "Just give 'em back."

"Why do you have these?"

"Leave it alone, Luke."

"Are you taking someone else's pills?" I ask Rafael.

"Oh, great. Now it's time for another one of Weston's famous lectures. Just 'cause you're a golden boy and Luke's the king of morality doesn't mean you get to - "

"Why is Monk's name on these pills?" Luke interrupts. "Did you steal these from Monk?"

"Shut up!"

"Where did you get those?" comes another voice. This time Monk speaks with none of her usual confidence. Instead, she's timid and ashamed.

"You shouldn't leave your suitcases in the hallway while you're eating," Rafael sneers.

"Why would you take my pills?" Monk asks in confusion. There's more rattling as Luke hands them back to her.

"Are you really that stupid?" Rafael asks back.

"Monk, what's going on?" Avenaye asks, evidently having come over to see what all the commotion was about.

"Nothing," she says quickly. "Forget it. I've gotta go."

"You wanna know what they're for, Avenaye?" Rafeal is using his mean voice now. The one he uses to hurt people. "They're pills for depression. Your friends a head case."

"You wanna see a head case?" Monk screams.

From what I can hear, Monk seems to jump onto Rafael and attack him with her small body.

"She bit my fucking ear!" Rafael shouts.

"Oh, shit!" Avenaye laughs in delight.

"Halt!" shouts a Peacekeeper as three pairs of boots descend upon our table. I hear Monk being pulled away screaming, and Rafael shouting more about his ear.

"I'm gonna come into your room tonight with a knife, and you know what I'm gonna slice off?" Monk screams. The Peacekeepers drag her out of the cafeteria, slamming the doors behind them, before she can tell us what, exactly, she's going to cut off, but I have an educated guess.

"Hey," Avenaye says suddenly. "Monk's my friend. And that was mean."

"Grow up," Rafael grunts painfully, evidently having suffered quite the ear injury.

"I mean it. What you said to her? That was really shitty."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah…. Wait, no. Almost." Avenaye seems to think for a moment. "Leave my friend alone. Okay, now I'm done. Oh, wait… also, enjoy your breakfast. And sorry about your ear. Well… sorry a little bit. Fingers crossed that it doesn't leave you horribly disfigured."

Rafael Rivera, District 5, 23

The pain is unimaginable. A doctor sews up my ear and gives me a bottle of pills. I love the sound of a full bottle of new pills.

"No," Weston says simply as he pockets my pills.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

"No. Just no, Raf. You've probably never heard that before, have you? I bet your friends in the Capitol are just dying to feed your addiction, aren't they? Anything you ask for, and it's yours. Not anymore. This shit you've been doing? It's done."

"Who… the hell… Who the hell are you to tell me how to live my life?"

"Your friend."

"You don't get it. You don't know what it's like in my head. I need… I just need a few pills. I don't have a problem."

"How are you supposed to mentor tributes if you're doing drugs?" Luke asks sharply.

"I'm not doing drugs, I'm taking medicine!"

"They're putting their lives in your hands!" Luke shouts. Weston steps back in alarm.

Luke never shouts.

"You're sending them to their deaths, Rafael! You owe it them to at least be _clean_ when you're showing them how to kill each other!"

"You think you know the first thing about killing someone, lucky Luke? You've never even done it. You've never felt the blood on your hands as the light goes out in their eyes, you little baby. You don't know _anything._"

"Leave him alone," Weston says in annoyance. "I'm the one taking your pills away, not Luke."

"She nearly ripped my ear off. How do you expect me to get through the night without pain pills."

"I expect you to be a man. Can you do that, for once?"

"Some friend you turned out to be," I snap angrily.

"Yeah." Weston feels for the door.

"Hey," Luke speaks up.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Get a rabies shot."

"Screw you," I laugh.

Avenaye Darwin, District 4, 21

"…Do you want to practice our magic tricks?" I ask Monk. I'm sitting cross-legged on her bed while she sits at her thinking desk, furiously scribbling on some paper.

"No," she snaps.

"We could play hide-and-go-seek."

"No."

"How about practicing for the circus again? We were getting pretty good."

"No."

"Do you want to work on our synchronized yodeling?"

"No."

I start to pull a can of bubbles out of my pocket.

"I'm not blowing bubbles," she snaps.

"Then I'm not even going to bring up crocheting, because you're obviously in a bad mood."

She spins around in her chair.

"You think I'm crazy," she says accusingly.

"I think you're a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but I don't know if I'd use the word 'crazy.'"

"Avenaye, you're about as useful as a trapdoor in a canoe."

"Thank you."

Monk stares at me very seriously.

"I'm not crazy. I get depressed sometimes. But I have pills. And they work. I'm not crazy."

"I know that."

"I don't know if I wanna be friends with you anymore."

Something in the pit of my stomach twists. "What?" I ask.

"I just… I just think I should have friends who don't know about my medicine. I think that would be better."

"But… There's a two-hundred piece puzzle in my room that we've been working on for three years, Monk! What am I supposed to do, just… just finish it by myself?"

"I don't want a friend that thinks I'm different."

"…You _are_ different. You're very different. You want a vibrating toilet, I don't think it gets any more different than that."

"Just because I'm on medicine doesn't mean I'm damaged."

"Monk, I take vitamins! I'm on medicine, too!"

"…You don't think I'm weird?"

"I think we're probably the two coolest people in the Capitol right now."

"…Well, I guess you're probably right."

"I don't know how to not be your friend."

Monk stares at me for a long moment.

"Thank you," she finally says.

"For what?"

"…Never mind, I take it back."

Aibileen "Abe" Jude, District 7, 17

They don't notice me. Why would they? I can't speak. I am silent. So they ignore me.

Rafael steals Monk's pills. I've seen him take more from the first aid room. Nobody else notices. Just me.

Luke cries when he thinks no one's looking. He misses his sister. No one sees but me.

Weston talks to his wife, Kallie, every night on the phone. He is being distant. She is mad at him. I am the only one who knows this. I am the only one who listens.

Monk takes pills for depression. She also takes them for anxiety. She is afraid of things. Of people not liking her. Of being alone. I watch her. And I understand.

Avenaye looks at himself in the mirror a lot. He doesn't like what he sees. He is a 21-year-old boy. I am he only one who knows.

I am the keeper of everyone's secrets. Silent Abe.

I tell these secrets to Gabriel. Gabriel is an Avox. He is silent like me. His nineteenth birthday is today. He cleans my room.

He is my only friend.

_She bit his ear off?_ Gabriel signs.

_Almost,_ I sign back.

We are hiding in the laundry room, which is empty at this time of night.

_I am glad you came back_, Gabriel signs.

_Happy birthday, _I sign.

I lean forward and kiss him. When I am with Gabriel, my whole world feels centered. My world feels whole. I can talk to Gabriel. And he can hear me. And he listens.

The door to the laundry room slams open. Rafael comes through, his mouth glued to a random girl's as they make out wildly. When he sees me and Gabriel, Rafael pushes the girl away from him. A ridiculously happy smile grows on his face.

"Well, what do you know," he croons. He turns to the girl. "I'll meet you back in the room, sexy." She giggles and hurries out the door. He turns back to us. "Abe and Gabe. Who would've guessed."

I shake my head, begging him with my eyes.

"Oh, you may not speak my language, but I know you understand it, kid. I also know that you've been watching me. A lot. And you've seen me taking some pills that I'm not supposed to take. Maybe drinking a little more than I should. Another thing I know? I just caught you in a very compromising position. Abe, if I tell… they'll put Gabe right in front of a firing squad."

I shake my head again. Rafael comes closer to me.

"Now I've got you," he whispers into my face. "And you're gonna do what I say, kid."

Tears blur my eyes. I close my eyes and turn my face away, so that I won't have to see him when he forces me to kiss him.

"Abe, no," he says suddenly. "No. Not that."

I see it in his eyes. He remembers. Remembers seeing me raped during my Games. Everyone in the world saw. I clench my teeth in anger and embarrassment.

"Abe, I'm so sorry," he says, taking a step away from me and putting his hands up. "I didn't mean…"

Gabe squeezes my hand, and I spit at Rafael's feet.

"Okay," Rafael says with a smile. "I deserved that. But we have a deal, right? I'll keep your little secret if you keep mine. Agreed?"

I nod my head.

"You're a smart kid."

I blink back my tears.

"Abe," he says as he reaches for the door. "Don't worry. As long as you keep my secret, I won't breathe a word about you. I promise."

He slips out into the hallway. As soon as the door shuts, I let out a silent sob and slide to the floor. Gabriel wraps his arms around me. We are both silent. We are always silent.

But someone needs to tell Rafael's secret.

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><p><strong>Again, please submit tributes through PM's only. Please keep the Mentors of each District in mind as you choose your tribute's District. Thank you!<strong>


	3. District One

**This is an SYOT, the tribute form is on my profile, I will only accept tributes through PM's. Thank you!**

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><p><span>Lux Caligari, District 1, 17<span>

"Lux, did you hear-"

At the sound of an approaching voice, I spin around and punch my intruder in the face.

"Ow, Lux, my face!" Tom screams in his wussy voice.

"Tommy-boy, great to see you!" I slap him on the shoulder jovially. "Wish I had known it was you before I let the fists fly, of course, but what can you do? Kiwi?" I pull a kiwi out of my pocket and offer it to him.

"What?" he asks in confusion.

"I punched you in the face, so I'm offering you a kiwi, the most delicious of fruits. A condolence kiwi, if you will."

"I don't want your fruit, I just came to tell you about your scores," Tom whines.

"Why don't you want the fruit?"

"Lux, you're only seventeen, but you beat all the eighteen-year-olds in the training competition. That's amazing!"

"Do you not _like_ fruit?"

"Are you listening to me? Your scores were through the roof."

"Because it's a really weird thing to just say that you _don't_ want a kiwi."

"Forget it, Lux, I'm going home. I've gotta ice my face."

"Wait! _Try the kiwi, Tom!__"_ I shout after him as he walks down the hall. I launch the kiwi in his direction and listen to the smack as it hits him square in the back of the head.

"LUX!"

"Trust me, you'll love it!"

With a whistle, I twist the knob on my locker. It jams. That's strange. I twist it again. Still jammed.

"Sonofabitch!" I shout in fury, kicking and punching my locker until it squeaks open, badly dented. I reach in and pull out a bottle of cologne, spritz myself up, and close my locker again.

"Lux Caligari?" a trainer calls.

I flip my blood-red hair to the side of my face as I turn to look at him. "You called?" I ask.

"The other trainers and I had a meeting, and we think you're ready. Your scores were brilliant, kid. You're going to volunteer this year."

"Volunteer for what?"

"…The Games, Lux."

"Oh. I thought you were getting at something sexual. You had sort of a glint in your eye for a minute, there. Kiwi?" I hold out a second kiwi.

"I'm not gonna say this to you again, you weirdo. You've been chosen to represent our District in the Games. Don't mess it up."

He turns on his heel and stomps back to the training room. Biting into my kiwi with relish, I open the gym door and step into the sunlight.

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><p><span>Crystal Shimmer, District 1, 13<span>

"Hurry up, idiots," I sing. "The Reapings are starting soon."

A trail of ugly 13-year-olds follows behind me as I lead the way to the Reapings. Here's something you should learn fast: I'm always first. Always.

First some stupid-head gets on the stage and blah-blah-blahs forever. Yawning, I watch as she reaches into the male Reaping bowl. She calls out some name I don't recognize. Probably someone ugly.

"Do we have any volunteers?" the woman asks the District.

"Ooh, ooh, me! Pick me!" Some idiot with red hair and ghostly white skin jumps up and down with his hand raised.

"Is that a volunteer I see?"

"I'm right over here! Pick me!"

"Come, come!" the woman ushers the boy onto the stage. He half-runs, half-jumps to the stage, tripping on the steps. Scrambling to his feet, he stands before the woman with his hand still raised.

"I wanna go! Pick me, pick me!" he begs.

"Stop that," the woman snaps in a stage-whisper, swatting his hand away. "We have a volunteer! What's your name, young man?"

"Lux Caligari. Hey, do you want a kiwi?"

And the idiot actually pulls a kiwi out of his pocket and offers it to her.

"How… charming," the woman manages to say, gingerly taking the kiwi with a gloved hand. After holding it for a moment, she gently tosses it into the crowd, evidently disgusted by it.

"And now for our female tribute!" she shouts, reaching in the female Reaping bowl.

"Why did you throw my kiwi away?" Lux asks in alarm. I roll my eyes. The woman ignores him and calls another random name.

"I'm gonna go get it," Lux says suddenly, jumping off the stage and searching for the fruit. "Has anyone seen my kiwi? I'm looking for a kiwi, people, keep your eyes peeled!"

"Someone stop him!" the woman on stage screams. In seconds, Peacekeepers have descended upon Lux. They drag him back to the stage, holding him firmly in their grasp.

"AHEM," I shout. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Waving to my inferiors as I pass them, I climb the steps to the stage. For a moment, all eyes are on me. And then that stupid Lux says something else about his stupid kiwi, and my audience turns their attention to him.

Lux and I are going to have a problem.

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><p><span>Lux Caligari, District 1, 17<span>

"You're gonna beat everyone else," Wix says. My nine-year-old sister stares at me with wide eyes. "You're gonna be a hero, Lux."

"That's the plan, Wix," I say happily.

"I'm gonna volunteer just like you when I'm old enough."

"Well… that's maybe not such a good idea." I think of my sister in some bloody arena. The thought makes me angry.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not," I repeat, ruffling her red hair.

"Whatever. I brought you something." She pulls my kiwi out of her pocket and hands it to me. "I found it on the ground."

I pick Wix up in my arms and spin her around.

"You're the best sister in the whole world!" As I place her back on the ground, I notice a pink plastic bracelet on her wrist. "Hey, that's kind of snazzy. Can I borrow that for a little while?"

Wix places it on my wrist.

"I think you look good," she tells me.

"I always look good."

"I know."

With a smile, I hug her one last time.

"Gotta go, kid," I tell her happily. "See you soon."

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><p><strong>Again, please submit tributes through PM's only. Please keep the Mentors of each District in mind as you choose your tribute's District. Thank you!<strong>


	4. Districts Two and Three

**This is an SYOT, the tribute form is on my profile, I will only accept tributes through PM's. Thank you!**

**The first part is very short, and it's District 2 on the train ride. This is because I don't plan on showing the Reapings for every single District. And, yes, the Reaping chapters are short. I promise that the training chapters and so on will be much longer, I just don't think that I need to write a book about everyone's life before the Games. I'm just trying to give everyone a handle on each character's personality and a little bit of background, if it's important to their character. **

**I hope you like it! :)**

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><p><span>Zenna Gates, District 2, 13<span>

I play absently with my hair as the train speeds forward. My District partner, Ciprian Ford, is punching a pillow repeatedly.

"Hey," I tell him. "You're annoying me. So stop." I don't even look at him, just glance down at my perfect manicure and wonder if it can even be improved upon by the stylists. It's that good.

"You think you're the boss, don't you?" Ciprian says with a crocodile smile.

"I _am_ the boss. The sooner you learn that, the better." I sigh at his ignorance.

"When we're in that Arena, honey, I'm gonna teach you a lesson. A lesson you can only learn once."

"Yeah? What's that?" Probably something idiotic, like how to pick your nose.

"How to die." His grin widens as he speaks, and I feel a slight chill go through my body. Shifting myself farther away from him, I frown and begin feeling my eyebrows to see if they're perfectly symmetrical.

"Whatever." I decide right then and there that I'll be ignoring Ciprian for the rest of the trip. He doesn't deserve my attention.

The train slows down as we arrive in District 3.

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><p><span>Juni Still, District 3, 14<span>

The crystal-clear liquid bubbles atop my Bunsen burner. With a gloved hand, I remove the beaker and gently pour it into a small capsule. My chemistry set may have been designed for children, but I've managed to make a few poisons in it all on my own.

We'll see who's making fun of who at school tomorrow when the other children get a taste of this in their milk. That's right. I can be a bully, too, you mean jerks.

"Juni! Quit playing around down there!"

"I'M COMING, MOTHER!" I scream in fury.

"Hurry up, young lady!"

"I _said_, I'M COMING!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, missy!"

My stomach twists in anger. I kick at the air and do a few pathetic karate-chops, imagining my fat mother falling to the ground before me.

"JUST GO WITHOUT ME!" I shriek up the steps.

"I'm leaving without you, Juni, I can't wait any longer!" she screams down the stairs, as if I'll be mortified at missing a chance to be in her company.

I do a few quick punches at nothing, grunting and imagining everyone who makes me so furious just falling, falling, falling. The mean girls, the mean boys, my fat mother, my too-busy-to-talk father. Boom, boom, boom. Face punch, kick to the spleen, karate-chop to the shoulder.

"_YOU'RE SUFFOCATING ME!__"_ I shriek at the top of my lungs. She must waddle her way out the door after that one, because it slams pretty hard.

Finally. Alone. At peace.

Oh, shit. I have to go, too.

Kyou Luminance, District 3, 17

"Do you see that cloud?" Sol asks me. She points to a regular cloud. "It looks like a tiger."

"It just looks like a cloud to me," I reply indifferently. We're both lazing around on our backs, watching the sky.

"There's so much to the world that you don't see," Sol says, suddenly sitting up. Her long blonde hair brushes the grass lightly. "Don't you ever just dream about things?"

"I don't see the point in dreaming."

"Not even when you're sleeping?"

"I haven't had a dream in years. Not since my sister died."

"Really?"

"That's the last time I can remember dreaming." My sister was beautiful, like a porcelain doll. She was only three when she got sick. She never even learned how to say my name correctly.

"That's so sad," Sol sighs.

"Things happen," I say with a shrug. Standing up, I brush the grass from my clothes and begin the short trek into town. The Reapings will be starting soon.

"Are you worried about getting Reaped?" Sol asks, her usually sunny face creasing with worry.

"I haven't really thought about it. What's the point in worrying?"

"You should worry about some things, Kyou. Important things. Like today."

"I don't see today as being all that important, actually."

"How could you not?"

"My life is being decided for me by the Capitol. There's nothing I can do, Sol. Why would I worry?"

"Because it's _your_ life, not theirs. You control it. You make the decisions. Not them."

I shrug, because I want her sunny personality to return.

"Whatever happens, happens," I sigh, staring at the clouds again.

There's no tiger up there.

"See you in a few minutes," I say to Sol as we separate into our respective gender groups. She waves cheerfully before dashing off with the other girls.

I drift off in thought as the announcer talks proudly about our District. Should I see tigers in clouds? Is something wrong with me? What if-

"Kyou!" Sol shouts, bringing me back to the present. "Kyou, they're coming!"

I look up and see four Peacekeepers making a beeline for me.

"You were Reaped!" Sol cries, tears already running down her cheeks.

I stumble out of the crowd and raise my hands in surrender. I didn't even hear my name get called. They must have assumed I was refusing to go. The Peacekeepers keep a close eye on me as I slowly make my way to the stage. It's hard to think straight when something so monumental has just happened, but I manage to get a few thoughts in.

Whatever just happened, I'm still standing here. And whatever happens next… well, it'll happen, and that's all there is to it.

A female name is called out, and a little girl starts to cry hysterically. Another girl's hand shoots up, and she volunteers. She pays no attention to the crying girl, and it doesn't seem as though she volunteered to save her. This new girl is short and seems to carry a storm-cloud with her. She wears a dirty white lab coat, black rubber gloves, and goggles hanging loosely around her neck.

"What are you _doing_?" a large woman in the audience cries.

"If you were listening, Mother, you would have heard me say I WAS VOLUNTEERING!" the girl screams.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the mother wails.

"I'm _doing_ it to get AWAY from you!"

"Why do you hate me?" By now, the mother is full-out sobbing.

"LET ME COUNT THE WAYS!"

"Screw you, Juni! You think you're so smart. You just volunteered to die!" The mother seems to be angry now.

Juni, the girl who volunteered, pauses on her way up to the stage. She does a funny thing with her body: her arms wiggle as she stamps her feet repeatedly. She seems to be having a silent temper tantrum. And then it stops being silent.

"Exactly! You make me wanna die! Are you happy now?" she screams back at her mom.

"You're gonna make me die of grief, is that what you want?" her mother wails, evidently back to being sad.

"THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WANT!"

Juni stomps on every step on the way up the stage stairs. She seems very practiced.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, please submit tributes through PM's only. Please keep the Mentors of each District in mind as you choose your tribute's District. Thank you!<strong>


	5. Districts Four - Six

**Halfway through the Reapings! I'd like to know what you think of each character, but I'm also interested in who your tribute might ally with, so if you've seen any characters so far, let me know!**

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><p><span>Devi Starr, District 4, 18<span>

"So, have you two known each other long?" I ask the girls. I'm walking down the street with one girl on each arm.

"Um, yeah, kinda," Glitter answers.

"Do you guys, like, hang out after work and stuff?"

"Um, no, not really." This time it's Kitty that responds, although it's hard to tell the difference. They both have very similar responses.

"You enjoy your work?"

"Um, yeah, like, a lot." Glitter.

"You work a lot?"

"Um, yeah, like, for sure." Kitty.

"What do you think of my new haircut?"

"Uh, sure, whatever." Glitter.

"Do you think it makes me look like a celebrity?"

"Um, yeah, okay." Kitty.

"Which celebrity?"

Glitter sighs. Kitty gives her a look. They both let go of my arms.

"Um, are you gonna tell him?" Glitter asks.

"Um, you, like, totally said that you were gonna." Kitty answers, twirling her hair with her finger.

"Tell me what?" I ask.

"Every time we… hang out… you, like… you never shut up, okay, you know?" Glitter says slowly, as if she keeps forgetting what she was talking about.

"…I don't understand."

"How can I explain this? You, like, you talk a lot, and it's, like, really boring."

"Yeah, like, totally," Kitty chimes in.

"I actually have a really long story about why I talk so much, and I'll tell it you right now," I say. I take a deep breath, prepared to begin my long-winded explanation, and then I glance in my front window and see my sister, Steph. "Get down!" I whisper, pulling the girls under the window, out of Steph's view.

"Like, ow!" one of them whines.

"Shh!" I wince as I think about what Steph will do if she sees the girls. "Listen, you have to get out of here without my sister seeing."

"Like, why?" Kitty whines in confusion.

"How do I put this? Because she's my sister, and you two are… you know… kind of, sort of…"

"Prostitutes?" Glitter provides helpfully.

"Yes, thank you! You're prostitutes, and so that would look really, _really _bad for me. So I just need you to crawl away somewhere, and-"

"Devi."

I cringe at the sound of my sister's cold voice. Closing my eyes tightly, I think. Hard.

"Steph!" I say excitedly, jumping up from the ground. "You haven't met my new friends! Kitty is studying to get her P.H.D. in geology. She was just showing me some rocks and… and dirt, and stuff. Smart girl."

"You're studying geology?" Steph asks Kitty, clearly seeing right through my lie.

"Rocks are dirty," Kitty whines, crinkling her nose. It's actually pretty adorable, but it's still going to get me in big trouble.

"So is Devi," Steph snaps. "Go home, girls. Now."

Steph is not someone that you argue with. Kitty and Glitter waltz away on their high heels, their backsides taunting me with every step.

"Inside, Devi."

"Listen, I was just walking them home-"

"_Now_."

"Yes, ma'am." I bow my head as I walk through the door. "Hey, Pops." My father sits in his armchair, just like he does everyday, and stares at the window. It's as though he's waiting for my mother to come walking down the street with the groceries. She won't come, though, because dead people don't buy groceries. Mom died giving birth to me and Steph, and now I've got to prove to my dad that I was worth her dying for. That's a hard thing to do when he hasn't stop grieving for her for the last eighteen years. I brought home a couple of prostitutes a few years ago, to help him move on, being the good son that I am. Steph kicked me out for two weeks. She just doesn't understand a man's needs.

"How you doing, big guy?" I ask Dad.

"It's sunny today," he answers slowly, as if contemplating every word. "Your mother loved the sunshine."

"Most people do," I say brightly, forcing a smile. "In fact, you could literally say that about anyone. Steph loves the sunshine. _I_ love the sunshine. _You_ love the sunshine. We all love the sunshine."

"Leave him alone, Devi," Steph hisses.

"You know what else I love? My sister. I feel _SO_ blessed to have you in my life, Steph, that-"

"When are you gonna grow up?"

"Okay, I _am _grown up. And I-"

"Did you get fired again?"

"No! In fact, I got a bonus. You remember that fisherman who crashed his boat last week? I fixed the motor. It's purring like a kitten now. So I thought to myself, why don't I go get my own Kitty? And she happened to be with a friend, so-"

"Let's not. Not today, Devi."

"Your mother loved the name Devi," Dad says quietly.

"She probably did, since that's what she named me," I say with forced cheer.

"Devi," Steph says in a warning voice. "Talking about Mom is his coping mechanism. Don't upset him."

"Why do you think I'd upset him?"

"Because you can be a very trying person."

"Why?"

"Because of your personality."

"Why?"

"Devi! Change into better clothes and meet me down here in five minutes. We're going to the Reapings as a family."

"Can we get ice cream after?"

"If you behave yourself."

"Aww, that means no."

Michelle Zale, District 4, 16

"You can do better than that, slugger," Dad says as he watches me stab a dummy with a spear.

I remain silent. I must do better. Talk will only distract me. I jab the dummy right where his heart would be, with such force that it the spear rips through the many layers of fabric, clear to the other side.

"Attaboy!" my Dad shouts, patting me hard on the back.

_I'm not a boy, _I think angrily. But I say nothing, because the only time I get attention from my Dad is when he can pretend I'm his son.

My mother can't have children. For years, my parents desperately wished for a baby boy. Finally, they saved up enough money for a surrogate mother. Their dreams were finally coming true. And then I was born. And I was, to put it simply, not a boy.

"Time to run," my Dad commands. "Give me four laps around the gym. I'll time you. Impress me."

Although I'm exhausted from a full morning of training, I take off like a shot the moment my Dad orders me to. I struggle to keep a quick pace despite the stabbing cramp in my stomach. As I round the corner to finish my final lap, I trip and fall on my knees before my dad.

"I didn't raise a quitter," he says angrily. "Finish the lap."

Breathing hard, I struggle to my feet and limp past my father. He clicks his stopwatch.

"Fourteen minutes, thirty-four seconds." He shakes his head in disappointment. "When I was a boy, I did four laps around this same gym in seven minutes, twenty-seven seconds."

_Try doing it as a girl having her period_, I want to snap back at him.

"I'll do better next time," I say instead.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"…My knee hurts," I say hesitantly, wincing as the scrape starts to bleed.

"Oh, grow a pair, why don't you?" My dad says. Then he seems to catch himself. "I mean… you know, tough it out, Michelle. Or go have another _girl_ look at it."

He says 'girl' as though it's an insult.

I head to the first aid station, where a female nurse sterilizes and bandages my knee. I hover around her after she's finished with me, enjoying the motherly affection.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" she asks with concern. "Are the bandages too tight?"

"…Yes," I lie. I soak it in as she gently undresses my bandages and reapplies them.

I am not used to being touched by other human beings. I crave human contact.

"Thank you," I say as the nurse finishes up.

"Take care, sweetie."

"Kid," my dad says I approach him again. "Your mother's outside, waiting to take you to the Reapings. Don't keep her waiting."

"Yes, sir."

I limp outside and see my mother standing around the gym, watching jealously as other mothers hug their sons tightly before the Reapings. She merely nods at me before turning and walking away. She never even looks back to check that I'm following her.

When the male tribute is called, Devi Starr, everyone laughs. Devi is the District joke. For a moment, I allow myself to laugh with the rest of the District. The name Devi Starr is the punchline to some of the best jokes in the District. It's almost a little sad to think he's now a marked man.

And then they call my name.

"Michelle Zale!"

It takes my feet a moment to step forward. As I walk to the stage, I glimpse at my parents. My mother's face shows mild surprise, but nothing more. My father looks on with confidence, knowing that he's trained me well.

But I don't want confidence. All I want, at this very moment, is a hug.

* * *

><p><span>Rico Ortiz, District 5, 12<span>

Zoom in. Zoom in. Zoom in. Too far. Zoom out. Perfect.

Staring out the tiny attic window with my binoculars, I catch a perfect view of Mr. Hernandez making out with his maid. Mrs. Hernandez will be home in half an hour, and then the real show begins. Yesterday, the maid had to climb out of the second-story window.

"RICO!" Mama yells from my room. "You'd better not be doing the bad thing that I told you not to be doing!"

"No, Mama! I'm not doing the bad thing, I'm just cleaning the attic!" I scramble down the ladder to the second floor and run right into my mother.

"_Niño malo_!" Mama snaps. _Bad boy!_ "What am I telling you about the spying glasses?"

"They're binoculars, Mama, and I was only looking at birds!"

"_Mentiroso!_" She says, calling me a liar. She smacks me hard on the side of my head. "What happened to my sweet baby boy who was only doing the good things? Now he wants to bring shame to his mother by looking at the neighbors with spying glasses!"

"_Lo siento,_" I grumble, apologizing.

"Good boy. Now, go and see your _abuelo_, he's been in the grumpy mood all day." She vanishes into my room with an armful of laundry, and I jump down the stairs, two steps at a time.

"Papa!" I shout happily as I see my father standing in the kitchen. I run to him and he lifts me into his arms, spinning me around in the air.

"_Mijo_!" he laughs. _My son. _"I have the day off. No more work today for your papa. Today is a family day."

"Mama says Abuelo is grumpy," I relay as my Papa places me on the ground.

"Your abuelo is always grumpy," Papa says with a grin.

"Papi!" I say excitedly, running to my grandfather. He sits in his dirty blue armchair, where he spends most of the day. "Today I have no school!"

"Give me those binoculars, Rico," my grandfather says. I do as I'm told. He uses them to stare out the window at the pretty neighbor across the street. She's bending over her flowers. My grandfather sighs happily. Then he turns to me, and smacks me on the side of the head.

"What was that for, Papi?"

"For giving me these binoculars, stupid boy." He passes my binoculars back to me and continues to stare out the window.

"Papa was right," I comment. "You _are_ always grumpy."

Laughing, I duck my head to dodge my grandfather's hand.

Lani Mihai, District 5, 16

The Reapings. The worst day of the year. My chest tightens. My breathing gets fast. I feel the panic rising.

Go into my room. Dart into the closet. Close the closet door. Lock it. Turn the lights off. Sit in the corner.

Ten minutes pass, and my panic attack is gone. I slowly venture out of my room and down the steps. I hesitate at the front door. I always do. That one moment that I have to prepare myself before I have to step out into the overwhelming street. With a deep breath, I open the door and leave my house.

Keep my head down. My long dark hair hides my face. Don't speak to anyone. Get into my age group. Stare at the ground.

My heart beats fast as a boy named Rico Ortiz is Reaped. I feel sick as the escort reaches her hand into the bowl and pulls out the name of the female tribute.

"Lani Mihai!" she sings.

Now there is nowhere to escape to. I'm led to the stage, my breathing heavy. Tears slide down my face. I grip my chest and stand at the back of the stage. Make myself smaller. Make myself invisible.

Just need to get to the darkness again.

* * *

><p><span>Felix Pike, District 6, 14<span>

I sit quietly and wait to be served. Though it's a prosperous District, food is scarce in this house. Anyone would have difficulty finding the money to feed eight children, no matter what District they're from.

A small turkey is placed in the center of the table, in honor of Reaping day. After all, this could be someone's last meal. Tiny hands reach out for a slice of this rare treat. I'm forced to swat away the younger boys and girls so that I can have two-thirds of the turkey. After all, I'm a growing boy, and I need it more.

"Scat, all of you!" I snap, slapping any hand that gets too close to my food. A half-gallon of milk is placed on the table, also a rare treat. Immediately grabbing it, I drink half of it right from the container. Satisfied, I sigh happily, smack the milk container back onto the table, and wipe my face with my hands.

"Gee, that was great," I say, tossing my soiled napkin onto the table. "Anyway, I better get home. Thanks for lunch, Mrs. Avery!" With a cheerful wave, I race out of the house and into the street. Through the window, I watch the eight young Avery children pick at the scraps I've left them. Do they look… sad? No, I don't think that's it. Why would they be sad when I've just given them the joy of my company? I don't understand poor people.

"Ma! I'm ready for lunch!" I shout as I throw my front door open. The smell of mashed potatoes, fresh bread, and glazed turkey greets me. The table is nice and small for our family of three, and yet the table is filled to burst. I didn't say anything to the Avery family about how disappointing their meal was, because it was only my first lunch. I'm a good person; I can let things slide. Second dinner is the most important lunch, anyways.

"Feed me!" I shout happily, pounding my fork and knife on the table.

"Yes, dearie," Mommy says as she prepares my plate. First-class service. One of the many benefits of being an only child and not having to put up with grubby, grabby little siblings.

Medina Hathor, District 6, 18

The sound of my daughter's crying wakes me. I roll over in bed and shake my fiancée gently.

"I'll get her," Lysander groans.

He gets up, lifts Juniper from her crib, and cradles her in his arms. My whole body feels warm as I look at our little family.

"Are you ready for the Reapings?" Lysander asks me.

"Ready for them to be over," I answer, rolling out of bed. "It's my last year. I've already made it through a rough childhood and a teenage pregnancy. I'd have to be _really _unlucky to get Reaped after all I've been through."

"I was just thinking… I don't know what I'd do if you were Reaped."

"You don't have to worry. I'd come back. For you and Juniper. I'd do everything I could to come back."

Felix Pike, District 6, 14

The most abominable thing happens at the Reapings. They call one of the Avery boys.

Over me? One of those smelly, poor, salt-of-the-earth boys was chosen over _me_?

"I wanna go!" I shout.

"Felix, no!" Mom shouts from far behind me. "You don't want to go!"

"You're not the boss of me! I'm better than that kid, and I wanna go!" I shove the Avery boy out of my way and proudly walk onto the stage.

"And what's your name?" the escort asks me.

"Everyone here already knows my name. I'm _Felix Pike_. I don't need an introduction."

Medina Hathor, District 6, 18

As we approach the District center, I lift Juniper from my arms and pass her to Lysander.

"Mommy," Juniper whines, reaching her tiny hands out to me.

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be right back," I say, kissing the top of her head.

But I'm not right back. They call my name. I might never be back.

I am really, _really _unlucky.


	6. Districts Seven - Twelve

**The first District is the reapings, but the rest are on the train ride. I wrote this really fast because I wanted to get the introductions over with and start with the interactions. The next chapter will be the first day of training! :)**

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><p><span>Adalwolf "Alf" Rose, District 7, 18<span>

"Adalwolf, Armel, Ayala, Aras! Breakfast!" Grandma calls from downstairs.

I share a bunk bed with my younger brother. Our sisters share one on the other side of the room. Lifting my legs, I kick the bed above me. My younger brother Armel groans from above me. After a moment, I hear him jump down to the floor, landing with a heavy thud. He's strong for a fifteen-year-old. Ayala, eleven, and Aras, ten, race each other out of bed, giggling in that little-girl way as they run out the door in their nightgowns.

"Make sure the girls behave today," I tell Armel. "Grandma and Grandpa are getting too old for their antics."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Armel says obediently. He's a good kid. Always has been. Since our parents died in a forest fire, I've had to be the strong one, and Armel has had to be the good one.

We boys trudge downstairs, dressed for work. The girls gossip and giggle away as they eat. Armel and I are silent. I kiss Grandma on the cheek before heading out into the street. As I go to the shed to grab my axe, I see Laurel Reeves walking down the street. Immediately, I back away, giving her plenty of space. She is the closest thing District 7 has to a goddess. She protects all of us. Without her, we'd be lost.

Laurel can smell a forest fire the minute it starts. Like a bloodhound, she detects it in the air, and immediately alerts the District. We've been able to stop countless forest fires over the years thanks to Laurel's quick alerts. Her brother died in the same forest fire as my parents. District 7 can't afford to lose anymore citizens to forest fires.

As she passes me, she almost seems to float down the street. Her brown hair drifts down her back, and I'm reminded of a tree. She looks almost… unreal. She practically glows. Others rush out of the street to give her room to walk. To even brush against her would be unthinkable. She's precious. Fragile. Vital to our survival. She's our queen.

Once she's out of sight, I head into the forest. Other men give nod at me in respect as I pass. I'm the strongest male in the District. I have to be. The more trees I cut down, the less tesserae my siblings will need. I couldn't save our family from the fire, but I can at least save them from the Hunger Games.

Laurel Reeves, District 7, 16

Everyone bows out of my way as I walk to the Reapings. They wouldn't dare touch me. They worship me. I'm their savior.

When I arrive in the District center, the other girls give me plenty of space so that no one so much as brushes against me. I stand with my head high.

I don't understand when they call my name. There must be a mistake. I'm not like these other children. I'm too precious to be sent into the Games.

Tentatively, my heart beating wildly, I step towards the stage. The District elders are whispering feverishly amongst themselves. My death will doom the District.

"Adalwolf," one elder yells.

I turn to stare at Adalwolf Rose, the strongest boy in the District.

"Adalwolf," the other elders echo.

And I know that this boy will save me. Anyone here would give their life for me.

Adalwolf "Alf" Rose, District 7, 18

They call Laurel. How could they call Laurel? And then the elders start to chant my name.

I look to my siblings.

"Take care of the girls," I tell Armel, grabbing his arm as I walk past him.

Laurel protects us from the fires. It's my duty to protect her and the District. I have to make sure she wins.

I volunteer.

* * *

><p><span>Horace Gambit, District 8, 17<span>

I volunteered. What choice did I have? That idiotic Peacekeeper caught me selling morphling last night. What could I do but murder him? And once I'd murdered him, what could I do but volunteer for the Games? An easy out. Tomorrow could have started with my arrest, but instead I'll be served gourmet food and be taught how to kill people better. Next time, there will be no mistakes.

Zita Valkyrie sits across from me. Twelve-year-old. Short little girl. Worthless. She was Reaped - not even brave enough to volunteer.

"You're shaking, Zita," I say, giving her my most charming smile. _Would it even be worth my time to kill you, little girl? You're not even a worthy kill. _

"Sorry," she murmurs, sitting on her hands and trying to make herself as small as possible.

"No need to apologize. You're overwhelmed, that's all. This is probably the toughest thing you've ever had to go through."

"…My mom died," she says quietly. I blink. I see… _emotion_ in her eyes. I don't understand.

"You're gonna be okay, Zita. You're with me, now." I give her a charming wink. She gives me a tentative smile.

I guess I'll kill her anyway, whether she's a waste of time or not.

* * *

><p><span>Desmond "Des" Felling, District 11, 18<span>

I rub the stubble on my chin as I try to figure out where exactly on the train I am. I left my compartment and somehow found my way to the bathroom. Now if I could only find my way back...

Back. Back home. Wouldn't that be great? I think back to last night. To the man.

_He crept into my father's cornfield at midnight. Stole three ears of corn. Turned around and came face-to-face with me. _

_"What have you got there?" I asked. _

_"N-nothing," he stammered. _

_"That's a lie. Try again."_

_"P-p-please! My daughter, she's sick!"_

_I looked into his eyes. Saw the way they darted to the right. _

_"Another lie." I lifted a large branch, grabbed the man by the chest, and pinned him to the ground. "Try again," I told him with a smile as I sat on top of him. _

_"My children are starving," he sobbed. But I saw the way he rubbed his mouth immediately after speaking. _

_"You just can't stop lying, can you?" I pressed the branch against his neck and applied a little pressure. "Try again."_

_"I haven't eaten all day," the man cried, too weak to fight me. I searched his face. _

_"…That's the truth," I decided. I lifted myself off of him and helped him up. Then I hit him with my branch, knocking him back to the ground. Leaning down, I placed the three ears of corn in his hands. "Don't let anyone see you eat these. Don't tell anyone where you got them. And don't come back here. Next time, I won't be so friendly."_

I'm not afraid of violence. Thanks for that, Dad. Protect the crops at all costs.

I've beaten children. I'm not proud of it, but I'm not ashamed, either. You steal, and you have to pay the piper. And that's the truth.

Sliding a door open, I step into an unfamiliar compartment.

"Afternoon," I say cheerily, flopping down into an unoccupied chair.

"You're in the wrong compartment," the male says to me.

"Am I? How strange. Who are you?"

"Garvan. Garvan Emerson."

"Who's the girl?" I point to the female sulking in the corner.

"Alexys Cummins," Garvan answers. "But she doesn't talk much."

"Really? Now that's interesting." I spring out of my chair and throw myself onto the couch next to Alexys, tossing my arm casually around her shoulder. "Are you a mute?"

She looks at me very seriously before nodding.

"You're a very bad liar."

"Go fuck yourself," Alexys tells me, standing up and walking to the other end of the compartment.

"Now you're just avoiding the conversation. What about you, Garvan? Are you a liar?"

"I don't have any reason to lie," Garvan answers.

"Maybe not at the moment. But you'll lie eventually. Everyone does."

Alexys' eyes flicker over to me, and she stares intently from her corner.

"You're right," she says with conviction. "Everyone lies."

"That's the spirit," I respond happily. "Hey, Garvan. Since you don't lie, tell me a truth."

"My dad owns a store where he sells survival gear. My mom's an archaeologist."

"Tell me an interesting truth."

"I camp a lot. My dad's trained me to survive in the wilderness."

"Damn. I wish that was a lie. Tell me - how many ways could you kill me right now, in this room?"

Garvan glances around at the room. "Seven."

I smile. "You're right. You do tell the truth a lot." I jump up and head for the compartment door. "Listen, it's been absolutely delightful, but I'd better be heading back to my own compartment."

I duck through the door and orient myself enough to find the District 11 compartment of the train.

"Check it out," says Orianna, my District partner, as she holds up a bottle of wine. "Someone wants us to have a party."

"We're both eighteen," I point out as she pours herself a rather large glass of alcohol.

"Where's your sense of adventure? Come on, if you get me drunk enough, I'll even have sex with you."

"Oh, daddy problems. How lovely."

"I don't have daddy problems," Orianna snaps.

"Grand-daddy problems?"

"_You're _the one who has a problem."

"Actually, my mother's a psychiatrist. All of my problems have been thoroughly taken care of, thanks for asking. And she'd say that you're projecting your anger at your father at me. But she's only a doctor, so what does she know?" I lounge across the couch, placing my arms behind my head leisurely.

"I'm not mad at my father."

"Lie."

"Okay, I'm a little mad at my father."

"…Lie."

"Fine, what the hell. I'm pissed off at my parents."

I smile. "Truth. Isn't everybody?"

"Now _that's _the truth," Orianna smiles, lifting her glass in a toast.

It's really not that hard to get someone to tell you all of their secrets. Especially when they're drunk.

Orianna Boyd, District 11, 18

I tell the dude everything. Why not? He's kind of weird, but I'm kind of drunk, so whatever.

"I loved my sister. And her husband was a good guy. But the Capitol, they executed both of them for treason," my words start to slur as I pour myself a second glass. "And their daughter, Marine, little Marine, she had no one. My parents thought… they thought the Capitol would… you know, suspect them of treason, too, or something. So…" I continue to pause in order to hiccup. "So, anyway, I moved out, too Marine in, and now she's seven and just… she's just great. My little niece. And that's why… that's why I hate my parents."

"...You know what? You just told the whole truth." Desmond looks at me with his head cocked to one side in curiosity.

"Yeah, so?"

"Most people don't do that."

"Yeah, well. You're a nice guy."

"You know I can tell when you're lying, don't you?"

I laugh, spilling wine on the couch. "Okay, I think you're an invasive ass. But you're not a _bad_ guy. Trust me, I've slept with enough guys to know the difference."

"Yeah. Me, too."

"Shut up!" I laugh. "Hey, it's your turn. I told you my story, now you tell me yours."

"My story's boring. Very ordinary."

"I want to hear it anyway."

"And I don't care what you want," Desmond says flippantly.

"…You've got big mouth, you know that?" I ask in annoyance.

"Yup," he answers simply.

* * *

><p><span>Stag Browning, District 10, 18<span>

Cricket, Koda, Meeko. I repeat their names in my head over and over again, to keep out the bad thoughts.

I remember this morning, when I sat in the children's home, working with these damaged kids. These beautiful, damaged kids. Cricket, seven, is deaf. I spent the morning braiding her hair while she used sign language to communicate with Meeko. Meeko is mute, though no one knows quite why. The thing that I've learned about Meeko, though, is that she doesn't need words. She knows when you need a hug, and she's always ready to give one. A pat on the back, a thumbs-up, a big smile - they say everything she needs to say. And then there's Koda. My best friend. He's nine, and suffers from ADHD. He races around the children's home, babbling and jumping from one activity to the next. I'm the only one who can keep up with him.

Cricket, Koda, Meeko. Their names steady me.

"You miss someone," my District partner says to me. She sits on the floor, her back against the couch and her arms wrapped around her legs.

"What?" I ask, looking at her in surprise.

"You miss someone. I can see it in your eyes."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"…You're very smart. I'm Stag." I shake her hand. She seems nervous about speaking to me.

"I'm Junjun Mystic, but everyone calls me Mystic," she says quietly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mystic." I offer her a smile. Her eyes dart to the floor.

"You're quiet, like me," she says softly.

"It's not a bad thing to be quiet. It makes you a better listener."

She looks up at me and smiles.

* * *

><p><span>Serin Rittagra, District 12, 15<span>

"Your name is Alana, right?" I ask my District partner as I jump from one couch to the other and back. "And you're seventeen, right?"

"Why do you care?"

"Guess what? I live by myself, like a grownup." Alana rolls her eyes at me. "I used to live with my grandpa, but then he died. So now I just live by myself. Like a grownup. You should try jumping on the couches, they're super bouncy. The floor is lava, so don't touch it."

"Play by yourself."

"I live with a bunch of canaries. They use the canaries to test the mines for poisonous gases, but when they're not working, they live in my house with me. I have twelve canaries. They're yellow, and they fly, like this." I leap from the couch onto the floor. "Don't worry, there are rocks in the lava. So I can step here… and here… and here…"

"I don't care!"

I pause and stare at her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have picked the game without asking you. We can play your favorite game."

"The quiet game."

"I'm really good at that!" I sit down on the couch, still as a statue. Can't make a noise, can't make a noise, can't… "Hey, guess what?"


	7. The First Night

Avenaye Darwin, District 4 Mentor, 21

"Ah, dinner," Monk sighs happily, setting her tray down at our usual table. The tributes have all been ushered straight from the train to the cafeteria. After dinner, each Mentor has to bring their tributes to their designated rooms and make introductions and such and such.

I turn around, reaching for the napkin dispenser, and feel my hand brush against someone else's. I reach for a napkin again, and our hands meet a second time.

"You go first," the tall tribute says to me, a wide grin on his face. I recognize him as Lux, from District 1. I grab my napkin and hurry back to the table. He follows me, sitting across from me. "We just had a meet-cute."

"What?"

"A meet-cute. We just had a meet-cute."

"No, we didn't!" I insist in a whisper. "Stop saying that."

"Hey, everybody, me and this guy just had a meet-cute!" Lux shouts.

"No!" I talk over him. "Our hands just brushed together when we were trying to get napkins. There was nothing sexual about it."

"Your hand was warm," Lux says with a wink and a smile. Monk laughs loudly, spitting bits of omelet on my face.

"That's because it's hot in here!"

"So take your shirt off. You'll feel much better, I promise. Look, I'll take mine off first, to make you feel more comfortable." Lux begins to peel his shirt off in a very sexual manner.

"Stop it!" I snap, yanking his shirt back down.

"Woah, this guy is practically ripping my clothes off me!" Lux announces to the rest of the cafeteria. Other tributes and mentors look over at us.

"Nothing… nothing sexual," I tell everyone, holding my hands up in the surrender pose. Monk is guffawing, nearly falling out of her seat. "Tributes don't eat with Mentors! Go find your own table!"

"Oh, now we're having a lovers' quarrel. Okay, fine. I can make my own friends." Lux turns on his heel and marches over to another table.

"What just happened?" I ask Monk in exasperation. But she's laughing so hard that she can't manage to get a word out. "I don't like that kid."

"What?" Monk asks me breathlessly. "He just like you, except… _better_."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, he's you, but… funnier, stronger, better-looking-"

"That's a big, fat lie and you know it."

"You'd better hope he doesn't win the Games."

"Why not?"

"Because if we have him as a Mentor, then what would we need you for?"

I narrow my eyes at Lux as a real fear creeps into my chest.

"…I don't act like that," I say, a little unsure.

"What do you mean? You're just as immature and annoying as he is."

"I'm twenty-one, I'm not… _immature_."

"Relax, Avenaye. People know you're immature. Nobody expects anything out of you."

_Nobody expects anything out of you_.

For the first time in my life I feel… disappointed in myself.

Monk Splice, District 3 Mentor, 19

Dinner was brilliant. Now I have to babysit two tributes before I can eat again. We sit in the District 3 living room, off of which each tribute's room lies. I stand on top of the couch, giving myself the height advantage.

"You," I say, pointing to the guy one. "Name."

"Kyou," he says indifferently.

"That's not a name."

"…It's my name."

I slap him right across the face. He stares back at me in slight shock, but makes no move to retaliate.

"If I say it's not your name, then it's not your name," I tell him. "Who's your mother?"

"My mother is-"

"Wrong! I'm your mother now. I'm your mother, your father, your coach, your mentor, your best friend, your doctor, your gynecologist – if you have any little problem, any tiny question, any little ache, you come to me. I'm in charge here. I own you." I spin around and point to the girl. "Name."

"Juni," she says confidently.

"Not anymore. Now you're Monk Jr. My mini-me."

"I don't like that name."

"I don't care what you like."

"You're making it very DIFFICULT TO WORK WITH YOU!"

I take a step away from her on the couch. Her outburst was completely unexpected. When she spoke, her whole body shook.

"Now, look, Monk Jr., you-"

"You make me wanna RIP MY HAIR OUT!" she screams.

Kyou sits calmly on the couch, watching the episode unfold before him.

"Think about what you're doing, Monk Jr.!" I shout as she stands in front of me and punches the air with her fists. She does some kind of karate kick with her leg, and the next thing I know, her fist is about to collide with my face.

In an instant, Kyou shoots his hand out and grabs Juni's incoming fist. He gently pushes her backwards until she's sitting back in her chair. Never letting go of her fist, he looks directly into her eyes and seems to hypnotize her.

"Take three deep breaths," he tells her calmly. She does so. "Do you feel better?"

"I feel angry. But not… screaming angry."

"You just need to relax. Monk's not worth getting worked up over."

"Hey!" I snap, shoving Kyou to the side. "I'm worth getting worked up over. And you're teaching her the wrong things. Juni, punch me in the face."

"What?" Kyou asks in surprise.

"I said punch me in the face, Juni."

Juni tentatively tosses her fist at my face, grazing my cheekbone.

"Is that how you're gonna win the Games? By stroking people's cheeks? Hit me!"

Juni hits me harder this time. But not hard enough. I smack her directly across the face. Her face turns beet red. Shame, embarrassment, anger. A slap across the face is the hardest hit to take. This time when she punches me, I reel back, clutching my cheek.

"That's better," I say with a smile. "That'll bruise. That's how you win. Your turn, Kyou."

"I don't hit girls," he says simply.

"_I don't hit girls_," I mock in a high-pitched voice. "Do you want to win or not?"

"I doubt I'll win. That's just a fact. Why fight it?"

"Because I told you to. And I'm in charge. Now, hit me."

"I don't want to."

"Why do you care? Do it. Do it now. I command you!" Kyou shrugs and launches his fist at my face. I fall to the ground, screaming. "You hit my eye! Why would you do that? You hit me in the _EYE!_ MEDIC!"

As I writhe on the ground holding my eye, I catch glimpses of Juni practicing her punches and Kyou looking out the window with boredom. Aside from the excruciating pain, this was not a bad start. Kyou knows how to fight. Juni doesn't, but she has anger like nobody's business. This could work.

Avenaye Darwin, District 4 Mentor, 21

"What was up with you and Lux in the cafeteria?" Devi asks me.

"Nothing," I say defensively.

"'Cause it looked like you were hitting on a young boy, and so obviously I had my concerns, coming into a locked room with you, what with my face being as handsome as it is."

"Hey, pay attention! I'm the teacher, you're the student."

"That's kind of kinky, teacher. Have I been a bad student?"

"I'll spank you, Devi," I warn. "Don't think I won't."

"You're obviously not going to teach us anything," Michelle says in annoyance. "Why don't you just let us go train by ourselves?"

"I have a vast wealth of knowledge to impart unto you, and –"

"Hey, if I want to get laid tonight, who should I talk to?" Devi interrupts.

"Rafael," I say automatically.

"Who?"

"Rafael Rivera, he's the District 5 Mentor. Talk to him. Just stop talking to me, okay? You're being… immature." My chest swells with pride at my clever usage of such a big word. That makes me mature. Not like that stupid Lux…

"I'm gonna go look for Rafael," Devi says, heading for the door.

"I don't care what you do," I say in exasperation, rolling my entire head instead of just my eyes. "I'm a mature adult trying to teach you about survival, but if you think that you have better things to do, then-"

"He's gone," Michelle says flatly.

A slight blow to my ego that one of my two mentees has already walked out on me, but I'll move past it.

"Then congratulations, Michelle. You now have my undivided attention. I don't think I have to tell you what an honor that is."

"What can you teach me?"

"…Okay, umm…I haven't really thought that over yet, but…"

"How did you win your Games?"

"Oh, they're easy to win. All you have to do is distract all the other tributes."

"And how do you do that?"

"One word," I say with a smile. "Bubbles."

Rafael Rivera, District 5 Mentor, 23

I watch as Rico spits into his hand and then slicks his black hair back. Not gonna get any girls doing that. Then he lifts his precious binoculars and stares out the window.

"Hey, Rico," I call over to him. "What'cha looking at?"

"There's a man walking his dog outside. I'm watching."

"Okay, this is your first lesson, and it's the most important one." I take Rico's binoculars, point them out another window, and adjust the zoom to perfection. "Take a look. Now you can see the Mentor from District 1 sunbathing topless on the roof."

"But why would I want to see that? That's not interesting. She's not doing anything. If I look out the other window, I can see the dog walk. And sometimes he stops and pees. She's just laying there."

"I was wrong, I have a more important lesson to teach you. Girls have what we'll call 'lady parts,' and if you're nice enough to them, they'll let you-"

"Are we going to die?" Lani interrupts.

"Of course you are," I say nonchalantly. "Anyway, if you're nice to girls, they'll-"

"I don't want to die." Fear is riddled across Lani's face.

"Then pay attention to what I'm saying. This is important stuff here. If you want to get a girl out of her clothes, the best thing to do is-" I cut myself off as Lani begins hyperventilating. "What are you doing?" I ask her. As I watch, her body begins to shake. "Is this a girl problem?"

"Maybe she's having her period," Rico suggests.

"No, buddy, that's not it." I watch with increasing concern as sweat appears on Lani's face and she starts to whimper, cradling her body.

This is not something that I'm equipped to deal with.

"Rico, go get someone," I order, trying to sound confident. Is she dying? What if she's having a heart attack? Rico darts out of the room and I pray he'll come back with Weston, who is only one door down in the hall. "Lani? Lani, what's going on? Talk to me, kid."

The door slams open and Rico pulls Abe in by the hand.

"What's she doing here?" I ask in alarm.

"You said go get somebody." Rico answers.

"Not her! Why didn't you get Weston?"

"You said it was a girl problem. So I got a girl. I told her Lani was having her period. Maybe she has tampers."

"They're _tampons_, not tampers, Rico. Just… forget it. Look, close the door." Lani is crying now, dragging herself into a corner as her entire body shakes. Her eyes are firmly closed. "Abe, I… I don't know what to do. She's sick or something. Help me." Anxiety crawls into my voice. Abe moves her hands around, signing something. "I don't know what you're saying!" Abe grabs a pen and paper and begins scribbling something down.

_Panic attack._

"What do I do?" I ask Abe in alarm. She grabs a paper bag that holds Rico's leftovers from breakfast, dumps the contents in the trash, and thrusts the bag at Lani.

"Get away," Lani cries, curling into herself.

"You have to… you have to comfort her," I tell Abe. She gives me an annoyed look. "Oh, right. Then tell me what to do!"

_Hyperventilating. Breathe into bag._ I read her scribbled handwriting and take the bag out of her hand. I pull Lani closer to me, wrap my left arm around her shoulder, and use my right hand to hold the paper bag near her mouth.

"Lani, you're hyperventilating," I tell her. "Breathe into this bag. Please. It'll make you feel better." Her hands grip the bag and she breathes quickly into it. As I watch, her breathing gets slower, until it seems that it returns to normal. I hold Lani until she stops shaking.

Slowly, Lani looks up at me, lowering the paper bag from her mouth. "Thank you," she says softly. I look at her tear-stained face, at the gratitude in her eyes, and something in me softens. My heart…opens.

I am selfish. I am ungrateful. Worst of all, I am mean. I killed children, many children, in my Games. I killed my District partner. I locked them all in a barn, set it on fire, and ran away, because I was too cowardly to watch them burn. I am amazingly talented at hurting people. And now, for the first time, I've helped someone.

And I like the way that it feels.

Without so much as a second glance, Abe leaves the room.

"Abe!" I shout, jumping up so quickly that Lani's body slams against the wall. "Shit. Sorry. I'll, uh… I'll be back. Abe, wait!" I follow her into the hallway. She turns and stares at me with that hateful look on her face, and I freeze in my steps. "I just… you know… thank you."

She stares at me for a full ten seconds without blinking, and then turns around.

"You have them, don't you?" I ask her. She pauses, her back to me. "Panic attacks. You knew what it was, and how to deal with it. You have panic attacks, don't you?"

Abe looks at me over her shoulder, and I can feel the hatred in her stare. Now I know two of her secrets, and she hates me for it.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about it. Fine. I'll drop it. Just don't tell your tributes about Lani." Now Abe turns to look at me with a confused expression. "If you tell them, Alf will kill Lani." Abe shrugs. "Come on, how is that fair to Lani?"

In an instant, Abe shoves me against the wall. _What do you know about fair?_ she mouths.

"Okay, fine," I say quickly, holding my hands up in surrender. "What happened to you wasn't fair. But that doesn't mean you have to hurt Lani." Abe turns to leave. "I'm asking you as a friend," I call to her. She pauses. I have a feeling that she's never had a friend before.

"We don't have to blackmail each other, Abe. Can't we just keep each other's secrets because we're friends?"

She uses her finger to mime writing letters on the wall. _We're not friends_, she spells out.

"Why not? I haven't told anyone about your little Avox friend. You help me, I help you. Isn't that kind of all that friendship is?" She watches me silently. I offer her my hand. "Truce?"

After a moment's hesitation, she shakes my hand. And then she disappears into the District 7 room.

"Rafael Rivera?" a voice asks. I turn around and see Devi, the boy from District 4.

"What did Avenaye tell you to do?" I ask with a sigh. "Pants me? Tie my shoelaces together?"

"No, no," Devi says quickly, sidling up to me for a confidential conversation. "He said that if a guy were looking to get some… action… that he should talk to you."

"All right," I say, a slight smile on my lips. "Here's a little advice. And this one's for free. The elevators? They don't have cameras. When everyone else is in the cafeteria, I like to take a girl into an empty elevator, ride it all the way to the roof and back down. It's a long ride. You get what I'm saying?"

"Oh, I get what you're saying," Devi says with a devilish smile.

"You look like a smart kid, so I'll help you out even more. My tributes, Lani and Rico? They're monsters. You want to live, you stay away from them, got that? If you spread that around to the other tributes, I've got another tip for you."

"I'll spread it like butter."

"The showers," I tell him.

"The showers?"

"No cameras in the showers. Do with that what you will."

Devi grins, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. I leave him to it and return to the District 5 room. Rico is back at the window, watching pigeons, and Lani sits on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"Listen," I tell them. "Lani didn't just have a panic attack."

"But, I did," Lani interrupts.

"No, you didn't. You don't have panic attacks. If the other tributes find out, they'll pick you out as an easy target. The three of us are a team now, okay? You and Rico have to keep this secret. If you have another panic attack, hide in a closet or an elevator until it goes away. If anyone asks, you just like the darkness. No one can find out the truth. Got it?"

"Got it, boss," Rico says, a serious look on his face.

"Okay," Lani says quietly, ducking her face under her black hair.

"Good," I tell them. "As long as you stay together, you have a chance."

Weston Shepp, District 6 Mentor, 20

"Let's start with the basics," I tell my tributes. "What weapons can you use?"

"Throwing knives," Medina says confidently.

"My body is my weapon," Felix says even more confidently.

"Have you been training?" I ask him.

"No, I've been resting. That way I'll have plenty of energy when I actually need to fight."

"…But you don't know how to fight?"

"I'm sure it'll come to me in the moment."

"No, it won't," Medina says dismissively. "If you haven't trained, you're screwed."

"You can train here," I tell Felix.

"Oh, I won't be training here," he says quickly. "I'll be relaxing. You know, saving my energy."

"You'd better hope you get really good allies," Medina warns.

"Oh, I won't have any trouble getting allies. I don't have an off-putting personality like you."

"So, you two obviously won't be allies," I sigh. This is not going well.

"Look," Medina says sternly. "I don't need your help, Weston. I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl."

"Well, if she doesn't need your help, then I don't need it, either," Felix says defiantly.

And just like that, I'm fired.

Aibileen "Abe" Jude, District 7 Mentor, 17

I recognize the male tribute, Adalwolf, instantly. I remember his family. His little brother and sisters. I remember how they taunted me, before I won the Games. Called me dumb because I couldn't speak. Bullied me.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a bully.

And Laurel. She's famous in the District. Smells forest fires quickly enough for the firefighters to put them out. I saw the Reapings; I know the deal. Adalwolf was sent in to make sure Laurel goes home. Well, guess what? I got reaped last year, and no one volunteered to help me. No one cared if I made it home. I had to fight for myself. Everything I did, I did on my own. Now they want me to help these kids?

Alf keeps a respectful distance from Laurel, who sits primly in an armchair, her hands resting in her lap. I contemplate whether or not I should tell them about Lani's panic attacks. It's certainly information that Alf would be able to exploit. But why should I help them, when no one helped me?

And what if there's even the slightest possibility that Rafael was being sincere about us being friends? I think of the loneliness that follows me wherever I go. What if I could make that go away?

I give my tributes the middle finger and disappear into my room. Let them take care of themselves.

Luke Eve, District 12 Mentor, 18

Alana reads a book while Serin rolls across the floor like a log. Back and forth he goes, in a never-ending cycle. Alana slowly flips a page in her book.

"I want to help you two," I say loudly, in a desperate attempt to get their attention. Serin ignores me. Alana glances up from her book, but only for a fraction of a second. I feel a sense of doom residing in the room. It would take a miracle to get one of these two out of the Games alive.

But I have to try.

"Serin, let's play a game," I suggest, trying another tactic.

"Tag? Hide-and-seek? Floor lava? Pick your poison," Serin says excitedly.

"Let's play… floor lava."

"Okay, here's the rules. The couches and chairs and counters are islands, the floor is lava, you can only stand on an island for ten seconds before it sinks, so you have to keep jumping around, and if you touch the floor, you die." He says it as fast as an auctioneer, and I have trouble keeping up with him. He has a flat black hat on his head, like the kind you'd see on a chimney sweep, with a yellow canary feather sticking out of it. He adjusts this on his head as he steps onto the longest couch. I follow suit, choosing a red armchair.

"Have you ever used a weapon before?" I ask casually as we both jump to the same couch.

"Why would I need a weapon? You can't fight lava."

It dawns on me that the only way to reach Serin is through his games. If I can only make him see the Hunger Games as an actual game, if I can lay down rules and strategies, perhaps he'll listen.

"Quick, Serin! There's a shark in the lava! What weapon are you going to fight it with? The rule is, you can choose any weapon you want, but you have to be able to use it in real life."

"I don't know how to use any weapons… I'll have to fight him off with my bare hands!"

I jump to the longest couch, pick up a throw pillow, and toss it at him. He claws at it pathetically, eventually tossing it to the ground, and I can see that he has no knowledge of fighting.

"Now there are other people on the islands," I say, jumping back to the armchair. Serin climbs onto a counter. "Every tribute that got reaped this year is on a separate island. You have to choose one or two of them to share an alliance with against the lava sharks. The rule is, you have to choose people who are going to be the most help against the lava sharks, and someone who would agree to help you."

As Serin crawls across the counter, I can see him thinking about all of the various tributes. "Lux!" he says in excitement. "He's fun, he'll help me!"

"No! Lux is a Career – I mean, he's a… he's a lava monster. He looks like you and me, but he really lives in the lava. He's much stronger than everyone else, and the only thing he wants to do is kill you. All of the District One and Two tribtues are lava monsters, and so are Michelle, Felix, Horace, and Desmond. No matter what happens, stay away from them. Choose someone else." The Career pack hasn't formed yet, but I have a pretty good idea of who it will consist of.

"Stag is nice… Garvan is smart… and Juni is funny, she screams a lot."

"That's good. Garvan and Stag. Maybe Juni. Listen, the lava game is over, okay? You won. Now we're going to play Spies. Do you know how to play that game?"

"No."

"You have to spy on Garvan, Stag, and Juni. See how good they are when they're training. See if they'll let you hang around them. Watch them really carefully, okay?"

"Got it!"

I sit down on the couch, breathing hard from all the jumping. "Alana, how's the book?" She shrugs without looking at me. "If I give you some books, will you read them?" Again, she shrugs, but this time she looks at me. I go to the bookshelf in the corner of the room and pick out some books on wilderness survival. "These are really good books, I promise." I hand her three books, and she takes them happily.

When it's time to go to bed, Alana is already engrossed in the first book, and Serin is practicing sneaking around the room. Every few minutes, he challenges me to find him. And I have to admit, he hides in some pretty clever places. When he plays a game, he gives it his all.

That's what I'm counting on.

Medina Hathor, District 6, 18

My first night away from home. Ever. I toss and turn on the luxurious mattress as the clock ticks away. I miss her. My daughter, Juniper. I miss the weight of her in my arms. Now my arms feel empty. As empty as this room.

In anger, I kick and claw at the silk sheets that hug my body. I quickly become tangled and find myself falling out of the bed. With a soft thud, I painfully hit the floor, most of my weight landing on my elbow. So I sit there, clutching my elbow and crying. Not in pain, but in sadness. I've been taken away from everything and everyone that I love.

Wiping my tears away, I feel a fire burn in my chest. I'll do everything I can to get back home. I will win. There is no other option.

I just need to move. Get out of this room. Opening my door, I slip into the darkened hallway. Out here, it's easier to breathe. Restlessly, I pace the hall. I pass the rooms for Districts 7, 8, and 9. As I walk by the District 10 rooms, a door opens in front of me, shedding light into the hall.

"Leaving so soon?" a female voice croons from the doorway. It's a District 11 room, so the voice must belong to Orianna Boyd.

A man backs out of the door and into the hall. I recognize him as Rafael Rivera, the Mentor for District 5.

"I've got a thing I gotta do," he says dismissively. "Besides, I don't want to be caught in bed with a tribute again. I've already got five strikes, and they're not gonna be so lenient next time around."

Orianna giggles and grabs at Rafael's tie. It's past midnight, and he still hasn't changed out of the tuxedo he was required to wear to greet his new tributes. He's clearly been otherwise occupied.

"Will I see you tomorrow night?" Orianna asks. I can tell from her voice that she's drunk.

"If I feel like it." Rafael shrugs, tucking his shirt into his pants.

"Don't be an ass," Orianna pouts.

Rafael opens his hands wide. "I am what I am." The door slams in his face and he laughs quietly to himself. I stand in the darkness, breathing as quietly as possible.

"It's cool," Rafael says, turning to me. My breath catches. "She's eighteen."

"She's also drunk," I say without thinking.

"She brought the drinks. I don't take advantage, okay? I just accept what's offered to me."

"You're a pig."

He scratches his hair, seemingly used to such accusations. "Can't sleep, huh?"

"What do you care?"

"The first night's the hardest. Just sleep with the lights on. That's what I do."

"Why would you sleep with the lights on?"

"I'm afraid of the dark," he says simply. He seems more concerned with tightening his tie than the fact that he's just admitted a very personal weakness to me.

"Well, I'm not afraid of the dark."

"That's because you haven't been in the Games yet," Rafael says seriously. "If you make it out, there's plenty of other things you'll be afraid of, too."

"The only thing I'm afraid of is leaving my daughter to grow up with a mom. Do you have kids?"

"None that I know of."

"Then you could never understand true fear."

That seems to strike something in him, because his face gets hard.

"I may not have kids," he says in annoyance. "But I've killed more than my fair share of them. So I know a little something about fear."

I stare at him in defiance. He shrugs and turns away.

"Sleep tight, Six."

As soon as he's out of sight I return to my room. I leave the lights on.

It helps.

Adalwolf "Alf" Rose, District 7, 18

A door opens somewhere in a nearby room. Laurel? I slip out of bed and enter the District 7 living room that separates our bedrooms. The lights are on, and I see our Mentor, Aibileen, sneaking into the hallway.

She's our Mentor. Laurel's life is in her hands. So I've been watching her carefully. Earlier I saw her speaking sign language with an Avox named Gabriel. He put his hand on her arm. They're very close. Just an observation.

I follow her into the hallway. What if she's meeting someone? Planning something for the Games? What if it has to do with Laurel? Aibileen ducks into the dark laundry room. As she fumbles for the light switch, I quietly enter the room and hide behind a dryer. She finds the switch and floods the room with light. And then she does something peculiar. She sits down against the wall, pulls her knees up to her chest, and closes her eyes. She stays like this for nearly half an hour, as though she's meditating.

Her eyes snap open as someone noisier comes down the hallway. Rafael Rivera, the Mentor for District 5, steps into the laundry room, still dressed in his tuxedo. I lean slightly to the side to get a better angle of the two of them.

"I figured you'd be here," Rafael says, sitting beside Aibileen and drawing his knees up to his chest so that the two Mentors sit in an identical position. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Aibileen stares at him with hard, hateful eyes.

"Don't give me that look, Abe. I just ditched a really, really hot girl and chose to come and sit in a dirty laundry room with you instead."

I can see the curiosity and doubt in Abe's eyes.

"I'm serious. Orianna, the District eleven tribute? She was begging me to stay, but I left. To talk to you. I don't think I have to tell you how big a deal that is. I mean, you've seen her, right? She's like a model."

Abe sighs and turns her head, clearly upset by Rafael's intrusion into her place of peace.

"Anyway, my point is, I have something important I need to tell you." Rafael stares at Abe for a moment before speaking, as if the words are difficult. "…I'm sorry."

Abe's eyes flicker to his.

"And I don't think I've ever said that before. To anyone. I just… feel… bad. Because I saw what happened to you in your Games. And I know I scared you last night. And you didn't have to help Lani today, but you did it anyway, which makes me think you're not mean because you're a mean person. I think you're just mean because… it's easier. And it hurts less. And I think maybe I'm the same way. Does that make any sense?"

After a moment's consideration, Abe shrugs.

"So, Gabe, huh? I guess that makes sense, since neither of you can talk. But they cut his tongue out, so that's weird, right? I mean, what's it like to make out with someone who doesn't have a tongue?"

Abe stares at him in surprise.

"I mean, a boy with no tongue. Be honest, though. Does it turn you on? Oh, I get it. It's some kind of a fetish, isn't it?"

Abe's face explodes in a smile and her body shakes with silent laughter. Rafael continues to joke with her, making her laugh silently and happily, and I realize that they're friends. The thought worries me.

What if Abe tells Rafael about my weaknesses? What if he shares it with his tributes?

There's only one solution: I have to end their friendship.


	8. Training Begins

Alexys, District 9, 15

Training has begun. We're all dressed in identical skin-tight black outfits with bright green stripes on the sleeves and cuffs of the pants. Mentors and Gamemakers observe us from above, protected by glass. As they dine, a trainer explains the many features of the training room to us. As soon as we're released to play with the fancy weapons, I find a nice corner where no one will bother me, and sit down to watch the idiots before me get excited over their impending deaths.

Lani and Rico, the tributes from 6, stick together in the corner opposite mine. Rico has a pair of binoculars, with which he observes other tributes. Lani stares at her shoes.

What a bunch of idiots.

"Why aren't you training?" a boy asks me curiously, sitting himself down beside me. I recognize him as Desmond, from District 11. "Is it because you don't need to, or you don't want to?"

"None of your business," I snap.

"Well, that's not an answer. That's just avoiding the question. Why would you do that?"

"Go away," I say fiercely.

"Make me." He says it happily, not in a mean way. Then he gives me a lopsided grin, as if this is all a game to him.

"I don't like you."

"Boy, if I had a dime for every time I heard that… But at least you were telling the truth."

I get up and move to the other end of the training room. When I turn around, Desmond is still there.

"Leave me alone!" I say angrily.

"But you're so fascinating."

I hate people.

"Hey, Des, teach me how to use a weapon," Orianna, Desmond's District partner, says as she approaches us.

"Why would I do that?" he asks.

"Because I'll tell you a very interesting story about Rafael, the District five Mentor, and you can decide if it's true or not."

"You get me," Desmond says sincerely, leading Orianna to a training station.

And I'm finally left alone. Watching the other tributes, I make a mental list of who's going to die in the Bloodbath.

Orianna, District 11, 18

Des is hunched over, his hands in his pockets, staring at a dummy. He analyzes it for a moment, runs a hand over the stubble on his face, and turns back to me.

"Take that pipe," he instructs. I pick up a medium-length metal pipe from a stand. "Now hit the dummy."

Stepping forward, I take a powerful swing and hit the dummy in the arm. Desmond shoves me backward with one hand, and I lose my balance.

"Wrong," he says. "You hit them on one arm, and they'll come at you with their other arm. You're using a pipe, Orianna. Always go for the head."

"If you're so smart, you show me." I offer him the pipe. He's cute enough. Sort of strange looking. Very disheveled. Off-kilter, in a way. But still cute. And he seems gentle. Almost innocent.

Taking the pipe from my hand, he approaches the dummy from the side, assessing it. He sidesteps so that he's standing behind the dummy, and with one powerful swing he brings the pipe down on the dummy's head with such force that whatever was holding it up breaks, and it falls to the ground. I step back in alarm. Desmond has a slight snarl of satisfaction on his lips that I don't like. Then he kicks the dummy in the ribs for good measure. Any thoughts of Desmond being gentle drift from my mind. He's good at this. He's done it before. And not to dummies. I'm smart enough to know that I have to stay on his good side, because I won't stand a chance against him in a physical battle.

"I didn't know you were so strong," I say seductively. "I like that in a guy."

"Why are you lying?" he asks curiously, completely disinterested in my flirting.

"I'm calling you attractive."

"But you don't mean it." He cocks his head to the side and squints his eyes at me, trying to figure me out.

Before I can respond, Horace from District 8 approaches us with an axe in his hand. Michelle from District 4 follows behind him, carrying a trident. Ciprian and Zenna, both from District 2, circle around Desmond. Horace whistles loudly, and Lux from District 1 comes loping across the training room like a well-trained wolf.

"Good boy," Horace tells Lux. "Sit."

Lux drops into a squat before Desmond, staring up at him and panting. I crinkle my nose at the strange boy sweating in front of me.

"You didn't mean that," Desmond tells Horace. "You don't really think he's a good boy."

"But I am a good boy," Lux says from the floor, glancing up at Horace.

"I think Lux is a good boy," Horace says calmly, offering a smile. It seems out of place on his face.

"You see, I want to believe you, but that's not even a real smile," Des says just as calmly. "It doesn't reach your eyes, which means you're faking it. You're not really happy."

"Don't talk back to him," Ciprian growls, putting himself directly in Desmond's face. Desmond waits for him to back away, but he doesn't.

"Back up," Desmond says quietly to Ciprian, a smile on his face.

"Ciprian," Horace calls. Ciprian reluctantly backs up.

"He needs to learn his place," Ciprian snaps.

"He knows his place. It's with us. After that little display of yours, you clearly belong with the Careers, Desmond."

Desmond ignores him, instead kneeling down next to Lux.

"You know your place, don't you, Lux?" he asks. "You're their puppy." Lux stares at Des in confusion. "And everyone pays attention to you, and they think it's cute how hyper you are, and they think they can train you to do the things they want. But you know the thing about puppies, Lux? They grow into dogs. And dogs are expected to behave. So right now, it's okay if you nip a little, if you pee on the carpet. But if you do that in the Games, they'll kill you. And you strike me as the type that pees on the carpet."

Lux pays close attention to Des – it's as though he's hypnotized. He says nothing, but seems to take it all in. Everyone watching seems to understand that Desmond's mind is a weapon greater than any pipe.

"...Kiwi?" Lux offers Des a kiwi from his pocket. It seems to be a token of friendship. Des accepts the kiwi. Lux takes a second kiwi out of his pocket, and the two bite into the fruits at the same time.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ciprian asks angrily.

"He gave me food for thought," Lux responds simply. "So I gave him food for eating."

"You're being an idiot," Crystal snaps. "Stop it right now."

"Hey, Desmond," Lux says excitedly. "I have a tattoo. You wanna see it? It's on my back, so I'll have to take my shirt off, but it's really cool." Without waiting for a response, Lux whips his shirt off with an expertise that takes practice. He shows off a black tattoo on his very pale skin – the contrast is as striking as the flaming red hair on his head.

"Hey, Lux," I whisper into his ear. "Come to my room after dinner, and I'll take my shirt off, too."

He turns to me, a wide smile on his face. "Why wait? Let's go into the men's bathroom right now."

"No, that's not -"

"No, it's cool, I've done it before. You just sit on a urinal, and I'll –"

"Forget it," I say coolly.

By now, the rest of the Careers have trickled away to other stations. In the time it takes me to brush Lux off, Desmond takes his own shirt off. I note to myself that he wouldn't be a bad second choice.

"I don't have any tattoos. I've only got scars." Des turns to show us his back. I gasp at the long scar on his back that looks like it's from a knife.

"Ouchy-mama!" Lux shouts. "Where'd you get that puppy?"

"Daddy," Des says with a smile. But I see the hatred in his eyes.

"Why are we all taking our shirts off?" Devi, the boy from 4, asks as he approaches us with his own shirt in his hands.

"We're exploring each other's bodies," Lux says, oblivious to his own words. "And you, sir, have a _dynamite_ body." Lux reaches out and feels Devi's abs. "That's some good stuff you got there. Feel mine." And Lux puffs his chest forward as Devi feels his abs in return. Des laughs himself silly as the two boys feel each other up, and after a moment, I can't help but laugh with him. Des holds onto my shoulder for support as he bends over in laughter when Lux and Devi start to compare their nipples.

"I was thinking about getting mine pierced, but I just don't know if it's strong enough for that, you know?" Lux says thoughtfully. Devi takes a feel before making a decision.

"Definitely not strong enough," Devi decides. "You've got weak nipples, dude."

"Let me feel yours…. Yeah, those are nice and strong. You should get those pierced, bro. You'd look fierce. I'd kill for your nipples."

Desmond laughs so loudly that nearby trainers turn to stare. Upon seeing the two boys groping each other, the trainers quickly intervene, and everyone is forced to put their shirts back on, much to my dismay.

Once the trainers have returned to their stations, and the other tributes lose interest in the exhibition, Devi and Lux really hit it off.

"The elevators are mine," Devi tells Lux. "I'm gonna take a girl up in them tonight. But you can have the showers. I got a little inside information that there are no cameras in there. And I can tell you the Mentor to go to for a little action."

"Papa likes a little action," Lux says excitedly.

"But first, I'm supposed to tell you that Lani and Rico, from District Five, they're monsters. They'll kill you. So stay away from them if you want to live."

"Really? Monsters? …I'm gonna go talk to them." With that, Lux takes off in the direction of the Fives.

"They were… touching each other…" Des struggles to speak through his laughter.

Boys.

Garvan, District 9, 17

I pass by the rope station, where some tributes are learning to tie knots. Know it.

I edge around the berries station, where Felix is choking, after apparently stuffing his face with too many edible berries. I know all about berries, too.

Swimming, know it. Fire building, know it. Archery, know it. Knives - know them, too.

Where I stop is the hand-to-hand combat station. This, I could use. I wait patiently while the trainer shows Juni how to break someone's nose with her palm. When they're finished, the trainer brings me a dummy and starts a lecture on the proper way to punch a human being. Before he gets very far, Juni shoves her open palm into the air beside my face.

"If I had done that a few inches to the left, your nose would be broken right now," she says triumphantly. Ignoring her, I return my attention to the dummy. As I'm trying to concentrate, Juni walks around me, thrusting her open palms upward at some imaginary enemy's nose.

"Kapow! Blammo! Hi-ya! Kaboom!" Juni shouts with each thrust of her palm. Pausing for a moment, she turns to face me. "Try to attack me. I'll break your nose."

"I'm working," I say impatiently. I have no time for her childish antics.

"No, really. Come at me. Do your worst. Your nose will be bleeding like nobody's business."

"Please leave me alone."

"I said, LET ME BREAK YOUR NOSE!" Juni shouts suddenly.

Surprised at her sudden outburst, I hold my hands up in surrender. "You win. You can have this station. I'll go somewhere else." True to my word, I head over to the archery station. I know it, but it never hurts to get more training.

"How does this work?" Juni asks. I turn to my left, and discover that she's followed me.

This is not ideal.

If I ignore her, she'll leave. She obviously wants attention. If she doesn't get any from me, she'll find someone else to bother. I pick a light bow, string my arrow, and watch it fly toward the dummy. It lands in the dummy's leg. Not good enough, Garvan. There's a clattering noise, and I turn to see that Juni's shot an arrow directly at the floor.

"There's something wrong with my string thingy," she says in disappointment. I try to hold in my anger and take a deep breath.

"It's called a bow," I say in annoyance. How stupid can you get?

"Well, it's no match for my nose-breaking move. I feel sorry for whoever gets in a fight against me with just a bow."

My eyes roll reflexively. "They wouldn't have just a bow. They'd have arrows to shoot you with."

"They'd never get the chance, 'cause their nose would be broken before they could even grab their stupid arrows."

I can't help but sigh in annoyance. Replacing my bow on its stand, I take off for the berry station. Felix has headed to another station, so I'm finally left in peace. Staring at the berries, I'm reminded of home, and of the trips I'd take with my family. We'd camp out for nights on end, surviving on only –

"That's poisonous!" I shout, shoving Juni's hand away as she lifts ivy berries to her mouth. The berries spill all over the floor, and Juni stares at me in shock.

"What… the… HELL!" she screams after a moment. "I'M GONNA BREAK YOUR NOSE SO BAD!" Two trainers have to wrestle her away from me before she executes her pathetic little palm-thrust. I watch happily as they drag her out of the training room to sedate her. Now I can finally be alone.

But I have a feeling she'll be back.

Adalwolf "Alf," District 7, 18

Laurel stands at the edge of the pool, gazing in. I stand several feet to her right, watching everyone else carefully. Devi approaches Laurel, staring at her body inappropriately. Instinctively, I step closer to Laurel.

"Hey, sexy, can I interest you in a little afternoon delight?" Devi croons, stepping too close to Laurel. Instinctively, I step between the two.

Laurel looks uncomfortably at Devi and I. She's not used to sexual attention. She shouldn't be subjected to it.

"I'm just trying to start a conversation," Devi tells me.

"Try somewhere else." I plant my feet firmly beneath me and fold my hands calmly in front of my body. Devi gives me a disinterested shrug and moves on. Turning around, I see that Laurel's gone back to staring into the pool water, ignoring me. Whatever. I don't need her attention in order to protect her.

Without alerting me, Laurel turns and airily walks towards the knife station. I follow behind her, my eyes ever watchful. A boy my age is taking careful aim at a dummy. After a long moment of concentration, he launches the knife directly into the dummy's stomach. An impressive feat, from this distance. As he sees Laurel approach, he politely steps aside to make room for her.

"I'm sorry, do you have enough space?" he asks considerately.

"I feel crowded," Laurel answers. The boy graciously gives her more space. He's a gentleman, I'll give him that. And he's skilled with knives. He appears to be the perfect ally. Someone helpful who would act respectfully toward Laurel.

"I'm sorry, I've been rude. I haven't introduced myself." The boy extends his hand toward Laurel. "I'm Stag, from District ten."

Laurel recoils at the thought of touching his hand. I step forward and grip his hand instead.

"Alf," I say quickly. "And this is Laurel. District seven."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Stag says politely, nodding first at me and then at Laurel.

"Likewise."

"I don't want to be near these knives anymore," Laurel suddenly announces. "I'd hate to hurt myself."

Before I can answer, all tributes are called to dinner. My mind races as I trail Laurel to the cafeteria. I need to ensure that Rafael and Abe's friendship comes to an end, and I have to start as soon as possible. I can't risk Abe telling Rafael about my weaknesses, or Laurel's. What if they conspire together to help Rafael's tributes, Lani and Rico? Abe is my Mentor, and therefore she cannot have any friends. To allow her to do so would put Laurel in danger, and I must protect Laurel at all costs.

A plan formulates in my mind. I've heard rumors about Abe's promiscuity. She enjoys using men. Taking all of their power away. Making them want her and then shoving them away. Devi and Lux are desperate for female attention. What if I gave Abe two alternate options to Rafael?

As we enter the cafeteria, Laurel picks up a plate and walks to the buffet. I make a beeline for Devi, keeping one eye on Laurel as I do so.

"Come to apologize?" Devi asks, scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"I've come to give you information."

"And what would that be?"

"If you're looking for a relationship of a sexual nature, my Mentor has similar inclinations to yours."

"Aibileen? She's up for a night of fun?"

"She wouldn't object to your company in an intimate setting."

"…Rafael told me this thing about the elevators…" Devi's voice trails off, and his mind seems to go elsewhere. All of a sudden, he's a flurry of action. "Gotta go," he says, eagerly approaching Abe.

The trap set, I return to Laurel's side. We each fill our plates and I follow her to an empty table. I sit three seats away from her, out of respect.

"Would it be alright if I sit here?" Stag asks, standing across from Laurel. Laurel stares at her food with wide eyes, not used to being asked trivial questions. That's beneath her.

"No," I answer. "But you can sit over here." I point to the seat across from me. Stag obeys.

He's polite, good with knives, and knows how to follow directions. He could work.

Rafael, District 5 Mentor, 22

I leave dinner early. I need some pills, and I need them bad. My hand shakes as I press the button for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Weston asks, suddenly appearing beside me.

"Shit! Don't do that, man."

"Gonna go get high?"

"No, I just… needed some air, for crying out loud. Where's the freaking elevator?"

It seems like forever until the elevator doors start to open. Someone must have been all the way on the top floor…

"Hey!" I shout. In the elevator is Devi, the tribute I talked to yesterday, with his arms wrapped around Abe's body. The two are entangled together, making out fiercely, and she's seventeen, and he's eighteen, and she's been to hell and back, and he's using her, and I know that because I told him how to do it.

"That's my move!" I shake Weston's arm. "That's my freaking move, he's using my move!" Acting out of pure instinct, I grab Devi and pull him away from Abe.

"What the hell, man? You told me to take a woman in the elevator!" Devi scrambles out of the elevator.

"Yeah, a _woman_, not Abe! She's a girl!"

Abe signs something fiercely, her red with anger and embarrassment. I don't understand sign language, but I can tell she's upset about me calling her a girl.

"She wanted it, too!" Devi defends himself.

"She doesn't _know_ what she wants, she's seventeen!" I hold Devi tightly by the arm.

"You're hurting me!"

"Rafael!" Weston warns.

"Get out of here," I tell Devi, shoving him toward the cafeteria. "And stay away from her."

Devi scrambles back to the cafeteria. Abe takes a step out of the elevator and gives my shin a swift kick. I fall to one knee and grab my shin in pain.

"What the hell was that for?" I ask Abe angrily. I was _helping _her. She opens her mouth wide and gives me a long, silent scream before closing the elevator doors and disappearing to another floor.

"Can you believe those two?" I ask Weston through gritted teeth as my shin throbs.

Lani, District 5, 16

Everyone floods into the cafeteria. Noise everywhere. People everywhere. It's all too overwhelming. My heart beats faster and sweat trickles down my face. Have to get out. Have to get out.

I run to the closet, closing the door tightly behind me. Turning off the light, I sit on the floor and lean back against a pile of napkins. Placing the paper bag in front of my mouth, I begin to breathe.

"Hey!" a voice shouts from outside the closet. "Are you stuck in there?"

I open my mouth to say no, but in my terror, I can't make a sound.

"Don't worry! I'll get the door open!" There's a slam as someone throws their whole body weight against the door. Then it sounds as though they're trying to kick the door in. Finally, they twist the doorknob and it opens.

"Oh," a boy says. "It was unlocked. That's weird."

"Shut the door!" I plead.

He looks at me with confusion, but does as I say.

"But now it's dark," he says.

"I know. I-I like it that way."

"You _like_ tiny, dark spaces? I'm claustrophobic, so right now I feel like I'm in hell. I'm Lux, by the way." He seats himself beside me.

"Please be quiet," I beg, terrified of another tribute finding me in here and discovering my panic attacks. Lux evidently doesn't understand.

"…Why are we whispering?" he asks in a whisper.

"I don't want anyone bothering me," I whisper back.

"Why are you in here, anyway?"

"I just like to be in the dark."

"Oh. Not me. I hate being enclosed in tiny spaces. I go crazy."

"You're not going crazy right now."

"Well, I'm a little busy talking to you, aren't I?"

Just as the talking wards off Lux's panic, it wards off mine as well. I feel my body relaxing.

"What's your name?" Lux asks conversationally.

"Lani," I answer quietly.

At that moment, the closet door opens again, and Rico stares in at us with tear-stained eyes.

"Lani?" he sniffles.

"What's wrong, Rico?" I ask.

"Ciprian scared me." Rico's lower lip trembles.

"Ciprian?" Lux asks, jumping up and putting an arm around Rico's shoulders. "Me and Ciprian are buddies. I'm sure he didn't mean to scare you. I'll go talk to him." And with that, he jaunts off into the cafeteria.

"Can I stay here a little while?" Rico asks quietly, his binoculars hanging forlornly around his neck.

I pat the ground beside me and he takes a seat. After a moment, he leans against me. I stroke his black hair as he cries softly into my shoulder.


End file.
